Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
He saw his point land, saw how it annoyed her. She glared up at him from beneath her lashes, his dark little Welsh imp. Yes, his. Now that he’d made it his business to marry her—to rescue her—he’d grown fully invested in the idea.
She frowned at him, openly emotional, her feelings always laid bare like no other woman of his acquaintance. “You’re proposing to me because my parents asked you to, because you feel obligated to help me. I have no way of knowing if you really want to be my husband.”
“You do have a way of knowing.”
He took her hand, not sure himself what he felt, with the maelstrom of morality, uncertainty, and conflicted longing that crowded his brain. She was the one with the exquisitely tuned senses. Let her work it out.
“How do you think I feel?” he prompted. “Tell me what your visions reveal.”
“I told you before, I’m not some mystic with a crystal ball.”
She tried to pull away, but he stopped her, held her hand fast. With his other hand, he removed his hat, letting the cool breezes disarrange his wavy hair.
“Look at me, Lisbet. How do you think I feel?”
She made a frustrated, indignant sound, but finally met his gaze. He watched her resist, then soften, then begin to seek within the intimate space between them. He laid himself open to her scrutiny.
I am who I am. I hold few secrets.
And I warn you, I intend to rescue you whether you wish it or not.
Elizabeth perceived warmth from the man before her. Kindness. A bit of anger, which surprised her, for she’d never seen easygoing August lose his temper. He wasn’t angry at her, but at Fortenbury.
His anger made her feel protected. Understood. She could see in his gaze that he cared for her, that he wished to do the honorable thing. She thought of the dark-haired knight in her book of legends, that paean of chivalric deeds. She’d hunched over the book and thought, this knight could be Lord Augustine.
Had she brought all this to pass with such musings? Did the world spin that way?
Now that she’d opened herself to feeling his warmth, the intensity nearly burned her. She pulled away from him, took her hand back.
“I’m sorry, but my answer is no.”
“No?” August frowned at her. “Why?”
“There are two very important reasons. First, you have been my friend all these years, not just a friend, but a brother and father figure rolled into one. I cannot think of you as a love interest, and even if I could…”
His frown deepened. Yes, August could be angry.
“I do not want a husband who will…” She lowered her voice, though they were quite alone. “Who will spank me any time he deems it necessary.”
“What? You don’t want a husband who will spank you?” He made a short, exasperated sound. “You have goaded me to spank you on numerous occasions, most recently a week ago.”
“Yes, perhaps, because I wished for it in those moments, but I don’t want it for my entire life!”
She could feel herself blush. She knew she was only making excuses, that she was really just afraid of the way August’s spankings made her feel.
“Women speak amongst themselves, you know.” She tilted her face from him as she spoke, hiding her red cheeks. “I’ve heard my friends talking about their husbands. Hazel is not spanked, nor Louisa, but the women who’ve married your friends…” She twisted her hands together, lowering her voice again. “Just the other day I overheard Rosalind say in the garden that Marlow has spanked her twice since they’ve come to Wales, then Ophelia, my brother’s wife, said he spanked her more times than that. Then Jane said they were fortunate they hadn’t married Lord Townsend, for he’d recently instituted a nightly spanking regimen. Nightly!”
August barely reacted to these unsettling revelations. “I can only be pleased they’re so satisfied in their marriages.”
“Satisfied?” She set her feet when he tried to start her moving again. “To be spanked so often?”
“Yes, it’s satisfying when a wife and husband settle their differences in such a sensible, time-honored way.” He finally compelled her to walk a bit farther. “Discipline is a joy in marriage.”
“It’s just as I fear. You’ll behave like them, spanking me right and left.”
“Yes, perhaps nightly. Townsend has got the right idea, though Jane doubtless wishes such personal gossip to be kept private.”
She accepted his chiding with a lift of her chin.
“Did you hear this talk in the garden before or after you came to me for your midnight spanking?” he asked quietly.
“Before,” she admitted.
“You see? In your own mind, you realized that it can sometimes solve problems.”
Her mind worked as they walked. She knew August, trusted him. She’d been spanked by him and survived it, but to be married to him, always subject to such whims? She was far too prone to problematic behavior, and there’d be so many opportunities for him to…